


Shortfics

by LaughingStones



Category: Motorcity (Cartoon)
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-11-15
Updated: 2019-06-05
Packaged: 2019-08-24 07:17:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,218
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16635383
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/LaughingStones/pseuds/LaughingStones
Summary: I'm trying to learn to write shorter! This will be a collection of ficlets, hopefully 1k and less. Tags for each fic will be in the chapter notes.





	1. Chapter 1

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Texas, concussion  
> Tags: Rayon POV, Skylarks, injury

It's Number 87 who finds the kid. He calls in pretty fast, gets Rayon on the line.

“Boss, isn't one of the Burners a real built kid? Cuz I found this guy in rough shape, he's not makin’ a lot of sense and he almost threw up on me, but I thought he looked kind of familiar--”

“Show me,” Rayon says, and 87 turns the comm screen to face a heavy figure sitting on the ground, slumped back against a wall. Bruised face, messy long black hair, ripped jumpsuit and blood on the tan skin underneath. His eyes are open, but even at this distance Rayon can tell they're not really focusing. His mouth is moving.

“Yeah, that's Texas. What's he sayin’?” Rayon says.

“Nothin’ I can understand, right now. Earlier he was muttering about needin’ to tell Mike something--I guess he meant Chilton?”

“Yeah,” Rayon says. “Concussion?”

“Looks like, and, uh, some other stuff too.” 87 winces at Rayon's pointedly lifted eyebrows, elaborates. “I mean, looks like they beat him up pretty good, and I could be wrong, but he's got this stuff around his neck that looks like plant sap.”

“Terras,” Rayon says, and he'll admit to sounding disgusted because he is. Them and their creepy entangling plants and mind-bending spores, they can't just stay in their own mushroom infested territory these days, they have to start sneaking out and--kidnapping and torturing people for kicks, apparently.

“Pretty sure, yeah,” 87 says, tugging his jacket straight with twitchy little jerks.

“Might be about time someone does something about them,” Rayon says, half to himself.

“Sure thing, Boss. But, uh, what you want me to do about the kid? Bring him back to base, call the Burners, what? Only we're not that far from Terra land as is, I don't really wanna leave him here for his people to come get him--”

“No,” Rayon says. “Bring him back here. I'll call the Burners, let Mike know he's got a man down.” Chilton's more fiercely attached to his tiny gang than Rayon could ever allow himself, and the kid is not going to take this well.

Steeling himself for the call ahead, Rayon still pauses before signing off. “Good work.”

He closes the call as 87 tries to hide a shy, pleased little smile.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: the Burners dressing up for Halloween  
> Tags: collars, getting handsy, light dom/sub dynamics

The Burners are discussing Mayhem Night. Texas has so far suggested Chuck should dress up as a broom or a street light, because he's skinny, Julie should dress up like Kane because it'd be really funny and she's got the right color hair, and Dutch should go as a painting, which actually made Dutch look thoughtful for a minute. No one else has been as appreciative. Chuck is glaring at Texas and Julie has on a tight smile that no one is supposed to notice is uncomfortable. Mike notices, because Mike pays closer attention than Texas… not that it takes much.

He sighs to himself and interrupts Texas going on about how Chuck's hair could be the light from the street lamp. “Hey, what about me, Tex? What should I go as?”

Texas grins and looks him over, squinting, then nods in satisfaction. “You should go as a cadet! You already got the costume and everything! Heck, I bet folks would be totally scared if they thought Kane had you working for him again!”

Mike's smile kind of freezes on his face. Chuck gives him a dismayed look and glares at Texas with renewed vigor.

“Well!” Dutch says loudly. “Now we've got that all worked out, why don't you come tell me where to put the lasers in your T-Rex costume.”

“Awesome!” Texas whoops, bouncing to his feet, and charges out with Dutch following.

There's a moment of silence. Chuck and Julie are both looking at Mike, who's avoiding their eyes.

“One of these days,” Julie says thoughtfully, “I'm going to put together a _really convincing hologram_ of a mutant rat about Chuck's height, walking on its hind paws, and I'm going to wear it, and we'll see just how loud Texas yells when I step out of a dark corner.”

Mike can't help but smile, shaking his head at her, and Chuck snorts with laughter like it caught him by surprise. “Yes!” Chuck says. “ _God_ yes, can we do that tonight? I wanna see it!”

“Nope,” Julie says. “Tonight I am the cutest kitty.” She triggers a hologram and abruptly has cat ears, whiskers, a little black nose and big green cat eyes. And paws, Mike realizes. It's… kind of weird, the halfway effect? But definitely cute.

“Come on!” Chuck says. “You could at least get Dutch to paint your face!”

“It's _my_ costume,” Julie says, “I had to make it myself! _You_ cheat and make Dutch help you, if you want!”

“I don't need Dutch's help,” Chuck says smugly, “my costume is _awesome_.”

“We'll see,” Julie says, narrowing her eyes at him. “Mike! What are you going as?”

“It's a secret,” Mike says, grinning, and is soundly booed. They try to wrangle it out of him, but he refuses to give way, snickering at Chuck's threats and looking innocent.

“It better be really good!” Chuck says finally, arms crossed. “Don't embarrass me like _this_ loser, Mikey!” He jerks his head at Julie, who makes an offended noise and reaches across from her armchair to poke him until he squeaks. Then she sits back, satisfied.

Mike slings an arm across Chuck's shoulders. “Aw, Chuckles,” he says with mock injury, “would I do that?”

“Last year you dressed up as a pizza box,” Chuck says flatly. “Yes. Yes you would.”

“Well, not _this_ year,” Mike says, but he's pretty sure Chuck doesn't believe him. Maybe because he can't stop grinning.

That evening they gather in the garage before heading out. Everyone has to admit that Texas's T-Rex with laser-eyes and -claws is pretty cool, although Chuck is heard to say doubtfully that he doesn't think they had feather crests like giant mohawks. Dutch shushes him before Texas hears.

Dutch admires the fur detailing on Julie's paws and ears, which seems to please her. He's looking pretty good himself, body paint splashed on his face and arms to mimic the abstract shapes on the rectangular “canvas” he's wearing over his torso.

Chuck's costume is just as amazing as he said, and even Texas is impressed. He's dressed as the hero from one of the Burner’s new favorite movies, and his replication of the shoulder and body armor is _excellent_.

When they're all done exclaiming and being impressed, he turns to Mike with narrowed eyes. “I don't see a costume, bro.”

“Oh right!” Mike says, grinning innocently, and reaches into his jacket pocket. Pulling out a pair of puppy ears on a headband, he slides it onto his head. He reaches into the other pocket and pulls out a black leather collar, staring directly into Chuck's eyes while he buckles it around his neck. Chuck slowly flushes red. Julie makes an intrigued little hum, cat eyes fixed on Mike.

Last of all, Mike reaches into his jacket and pulls out a small sign which he hangs from the collar, and grins. _Pat me, I'm a Good Boy_.

“Dude,” Texas says in disgust as Dutch bursts out laughing. “Lame!”

Dutch shakes his head, still grinning. “You're a good boy, huh?” he says, and ruffles Mike's hair. “I dunno, man, looks more like you're bein’ naughty to me!”

Mike blinks big eyes at him and points to the sign, which sets Dutch off again.

“Didn't Chuck tell you specifically to wear a good costume, Mike?” Julie asks, eyes half-lidded, her smile small and sleek.

“It _has_ to be good, it says so!” Mike tells her, grinning.

“Is that so,” Chuck says, and raises a hand as Mike's breath catches in anticipation. Before he can grab Mike's collar, though, Texas barges between them, dino head turning from one side to the other as he looks out of its mouth at them.

“Okay, Texas is all for crazy sex games, but _right now_ we got an appointment with a bunch of candy and folks who’ll think Texas's costume is awesome! Go out and party _first_ , get candy, _then_ come home and have hot Burner sex! 'Kay? 'Kay, good! Texas out!” He turns and heads for Stronghorn.

“You know, sometimes he makes sense,” Dutch says with a shrug, and takes his canvas off before climbing into Whiptail with it.

Chuck looks at Julie, who looks thoughtfully at Mike, then at Chuck. “They're right,” she says, “but you know, if we have to look at him wearing a collar for the next few hours, I think it's only fair we keep him equally distracted.”

“Good point,” Chuck says, and they smile at each other. “You first,” he adds politely.

Julie steps forward and at first Mike thinks she's just going for a hug. Then she grabs his butt with both hands and _gropes_ , squeezing and rubbing. Mike swallows, swaying towards her.

“You're gonna be sore when I'm done with you tonight,” she says casually. “You better hope Chuck's gonna go easy.”

“Yeah, no, that's not happening,” Chuck says, bright-eyed. “He was warned! And he did it anyway, so he gets to pay for it.”

“I guess puppy's getting a spanking,” Julie says, smiling, and raises a hand to tug on his collar. Mike lets out a shaky breath.

Julie lets go of him and steps back. “Have a nice drive!” she says to Chuck, and moves off to Nine Lives.

“Any regrets, Mikey?” Chuck asks, grabbing Mike's collar and pulling him forward by it, heat spiking through him.

“What, are you kidding?” Mike says, half-laughing. “Like I'm gonna complain?”

Chuck eyes him a moment and snorts. “And I thought _Texas_ was attention-hungry,” he says, and kisses Mike hard. When he pulls back, he grabs the collar again and drags Mike over to Mutt, shoving him towards the driver's seat. He climbs in with his skin humming, eager for more touch.

“You know,” Chuck says, buckling in, “some of the Terras wear collars. If you wanted to incorporate that into a costume that _wasn't_ incredibly lazy for next year.”

“I dunno, buddy,” Mike says, pulling out of the garage, “where’s my motivation?”

“Oh, you want motivation!” Chuck says, flaring up, and spends the rest of the drive describing exactly what he's going to do to Mike when they get home. It's definitely gonna make spending the next couple of hours in public slightly more tricky than Mike had planned for, but on the other hand, _god_ is getting home gonna be worth it.

Mike is going to have to reuse this same costume next year.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Prompt: Dutch/Chuck, sexy doubles

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Blessings on Curlicuecal for betaing and fixing this! Inspired by one of Birchbow's unposted fics.

“ _Dang_ ,” Dutch says as the reeling dizziness wears off, “that was a crazy ride!” He pushes himself up off the garage floor, wondering why no one's answering--why there's no yelling of excitement, for that matter--and then freezes. There's no one standing around him, no one in the garage.

Mike and Julie and Texas were standing by watching and Chuck was _right there_ and if the machine worked, which judging by the whirling dizzy sensation that only just went away, Dutch is _pretty sure_ it did, it was only supposed to put Dutch five minutes in the future. They should all be here, jumping up and down that it worked--Chuck in particular should be glued to the spot, he wouldn't just go off somewhere right now. Even if there was a bot attack or something, he'd leave a message...

The hideout looks different, Dutch realizes slowly. Some of the paintings are different, like _way_ different, more sophisticated, and Whiptail is in her usual spot, but she has a totally different paint job, and--holy crap, the machine totally worked, but Dutch is definitely more than five minutes in the future. Aw, _crap_.

“Mikey? Are you in the garage?”

Dutch whips around as someone--Chuck, that's _Chuck_ , just, broader and dressed weird and with longer hair--jumps down from the diner platform and then stops dead, seeing him.

“What the fuck--oh,” weird Chuck says, eyes widening. “Oh _wow_. Oh my god, it’s a baby Dutch!”

Dutch is about to retort in outrage that he's not a dang _baby_ when he abruptly realizes Chuck is _older_. He's got beard stubble a lot more thickly than the Chuck Dutch knows, and his chest is broader and deeper because he's filled out, finished growing, which means, unfortunately for Dutch, he's gotten even hotter.

\--Holy crap, he has _earrings_. Dutch is just--gonna, wow, regret opening his mouth at all, because when he says, too late, “I'm not a baby,” it comes out lame and breathless and just _sad_.

Chuck blinks at him and starts to smile. “No, you aren't, are you?” He gives Dutch an appreciative once-over. “What are you, seventeen?”

“Eighteen,” Dutch mumbles.

“God,” Chuck says, shaking his head. “I had completely forgotten how _cute_ you were!”

Dutch has absolutely no idea what to say. Hot older Chuck thinks he's cute, like a puppy or a little kid or something. That seems like a bad thing, but Chuck says it like a good thing, and he's still eyeing Dutch like an interesting program he's considering tinkering with, which _absolutely_ is a good thing, he can definitely tinker with Dutch any day. Dutch doesn't even know if his own Chuck is into him like that or if that's a, an eventual development, or what, but Dutch is pretty thrilled about it either way.

“So, were you trying to universe hop, or time travel?” Chuck asks, still giving Dutch that intrigued smile, which distracts Dutch enough that it takes the words a moment to get through. Then he sputters.

“Wha-- _universe hop?!_ No, it was--time travel, yeah…” How the heck did Chuck know?

“Except it's both, of course,” Chuck says with a shrug, “because as soon as you try to time travel, you land in an alternate timeline, basically the universe next door, which eliminates the chance of paradoxes.”

Dutch blinks at him. “Uh. You sound like that's, like, proven fact or something…”

“Well, yeah,” Chuck says, and he's been moving closer, Dutch is aware, but suddenly he's _very_ close, stepping right up into Dutch's space with that hot smile, broad pale hands settling lightly on Dutch's hips. Dutch swallows, suddenly wobbly-kneed with the rising wave of heat. He's still a couple inches taller than Chuck, but as solid as the guy is now, the height difference seems pretty immaterial.

“You don't think you guys are the only ones who found that machine, right?” Chuck goes on, scoffing a little. “I mean, I can't guarantee the Burners found it in _every_ universe, but we totally did here.” His fingers are sliding under the hem of Dutch's shirt, warm and sure on bare skin, and Dutch probably shouldn't be getting hard just from that, but he absolutely is.

“Of course, I only jumped seven years ahead, not ten, but twenty-seven year old Mike was pretty happy to see me. He taught me some fascinating stuff.” The curve of his lips almost makes Dutch swallow his tongue. Okay! He kind of _thought_ Mike and Chuck were like that, or would be at some point if they weren't already, but--

“Like about the thing with your ears,” Chuck says, and Dutch makes a kind of unsteady “Hhhah?!” noise. “Which seems to be a universal constant.”

Dutch goes hot all over, licking his lips.

Chuck is beaming, a sly, _I know something you don’t know_ smile, and okay, wow! That smile is, like, really clear! About exactly how much he likes Dutch's ears and other erogenous zones, and how well he knows them, and how much he'd maybe like to test out if what he knows about Dutch really is a universal constant.

“Yeah, I learned a lot!” Chuck says.

“Yeah?” Dutch says breathlessly.

Chuck's face is really close to Dutch's now. “Some of it was even about this time travel stuff,” he adds, grinning, and lifts his chin to kiss Dutch.

It's really, really good, so good it makes Dutch's head spin. Except the spinning gets worse, and Chuck pulls away--is pulled away--is fading out as Dutch sways on his feet--

“Ten minutes?” Chuck says distantly in disgust, his voice warping and fading out with the rest of the garage. “We can't have any fun in…”

As the reeling dizziness gets worse again, Dutch hits the floor in resignation, waiting for everything to stabilize, waiting to be back in his own time, his own universe, with his own Burners. He just wonders how he's going to explain the noticeable tightness at the front of his pants.


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Mike can't find his car.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Rated Mature for safety's sake.  
> This will make more sense if you've read my [shapeshifting cars AU](https://archiveofourown.org/works/14914724).

Mutt isn't parked in her usual place. Mike frowns. It's fine for her to shift human and go wherever she wants, of course, he just… kind of expects her to be hanging out with him when she does. Which is silly, obviously! She can hang out with whoever, or by herself, it's fine.

He just… has to find his car now.

She's not anywhere in the garage. Chuck is sitting at the diner bar with two screens up, but when Mike manages to get his attention, he doesn't know where Mutt is either. Mike checks the kitchen, and his own room just in case, and then he hears a muffled sound from a storage closet as he's heading towards the rec room, and pulls the closet door open without really thinking about it.

And stares for a poleaxed second at Blonde Thunder, shirt unbuttoned and skirt rucked up her thighs, and Mutt, kneeling at her feet, hands cuffed behind her back, naked except for her spiked collar. Mike can't help but notice in that brief moment of paralysis that Mutt looks flushed and happy and kind of dazed.

“Sorry!” he yelps an instant later, and yanks the door shut.

He turns and strides hastily away. Okay, so, his car is--very much not available right now. And probably not safe to drive even if she was, she'd probably handle pretty badly if she's as out of it as she looked. Although Blonde Thunder seemed to be handling her fine- _-whoa,_ no, wow, he's not thinking about that. 

He's going to… go ask if Jacob needs any help weeding. That will distract him from what his car and Chuck's car are up to that he and Chuck _aren't._


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Chuck and Mike are oblivious idiots. But at least they've noticed now.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Car girls 'verse. A sequel ficlet to Chapter 4, rated Teen.

Mike is playing a racing game with Mutt and Chuck when Blonde Thunder walks in, clears her throat and smiles meaningfully at Mutt. Mutt goes wide-eyed and crashes her car before Mike can even pause the game, and then she scrambles to her feet, stammering an incoherent excuse, and follows Thunder out of the room like a toy on a string--or a dog at heel.

Chuck glares after them, but Mike can't even be annoyed, just depressed.

“She could at least wait until we were done playing before stealing our third player,” Chuck mutters. “It's not as fun with two.”

“Dude,” Mike sighs, “if you had the choice between getting laid and waiting around while your girlfriend finished playing a game, what would _you_ pick?”

“I don't _have_ a girlfriend,” Chuck says. “My _car_ does, which is totally unfair.”

“Mm,” Mike says glumly. He doesn't feel like playing anymore, but he unpauses the game anyway. A couple rounds later he has to try, even though it's for the millionth time and it's probably hopeless. “You ever think it's weird that our cars are together and we're not?”

Chuck snorts. “You mean, how they've both got someone? No. Gorgeous girls always get whoever they want. The rest of us aren't as lucky. Well, except for you, I dunno why you haven't hooked up yet, you totally could if you wanted to.”

“Sure, except the guy I want is _oblivious_ ,” Mike says, mashing a button way too hard and almost skidding his car off the track.

“ _Oh my god_ ,” Chuck says, staring at him, and throws a frustrated hand in the air. “Mikey, I thought we were _done_ with this!”

Mike has no idea how Chuck is keeping his car on the track with one hand when he's not even looking, but it's really annoying. “Well, surprise! You can keep saying the subject is closed as much as you want, but I'm not gonna forget about it until you give me an answer!”

“Mike!” Chuck snaps, and sacrifices a speed boost to bump Mike off the track at the next turn. “I'm not gonna answer you when it's just a joke! It's a _stupid_ joke that was old the first time, and you just won't let it die!”

“It's _not a joke!_ ” Mike yells, throwing his own hands up. “It was never a joke, I just made it _sound_ like a joke that first time because I was being a stupid _coward_ , okay?!” 

“Yeah, _right_ ,” Chuck says, closing the game screen. “Like _that's_ plausible.” He gets to his feet, not looking at Mike. “Look, it was cute when we were eight and you said you were gonna marry me, but this isn't cute, and two years is long enough for a running gag that was never funny in the first place, okay? Just… drop it.”

"The only thing you have to say," Mike says around the lump in his throat as Chuck heads for the door, "is that you're not interested. And I'll quit. That's all you ever had to say."

He presses his hands over his face, hearing Chuck turn back toward him to say, "No! I'm not gonna… uh."

Mike is busy breathing in to shove down the ache in his chest, the prickle behind his eyes. He can't say anything quite yet.

"Mikey, come on," Chuck says, sounding a little shaken. "You can't _actually_ be interested in me, no one would be, especially not a guy like you!"

Just like that, Mike is on his feet and furious instead of miserable. He strides over to Chuck, who shrinks back at his approach, but Mike just grabs him by the shoulders, leans in and kisses him. Well, _tries_ to kiss him--Chuck gets both hands on his chest with surprisingly quick reflexes, holding him away.

"What was that?!" Chuck yelps.

"A kiss," Mike says, glaring at him. "Because that's what people do when they're _actually interested_ in you, like I am. Like I _have_ been for _freaking years_ , like basically forever!"

"You _can't_ be," Chuck insists.

Mike keeps glaring, and then something occurs to him and he grins suddenly. “Can't, huh? Chuckles, aren't you always saying the stuff I do shouldn't be possible? Why would this be any different?”

"Because I'm a _loser!_ " Chuck says, waving his hands. He's starting to look flushed, and Mike isn't sure if it's from agitation or because he's finally getting through, but he's not giving up now.

"Dude," he says mildly, because more yelling isn't going to help, "don't call my best friend a loser. I'm pretty fond of the guy.”

“Yeah, but _fond_ isn't the same as wanting me!”

“Sure, but I _do_ ,” Mike says.

"You _can't!_ " Chuck repeats, and Mike just gives him a look. "Oh my god. You're crazy. This is crazy!" His cheeks are very pink, and Mike grins and dares to sidle closer.

"You think everything I do is crazy, buddy," he points out. "Doesn't stop you from coming along."

"It seriously should," Chuck mumbles, but he's not pulling away, and through his bangs his eyes are wide and dark. He catches a corner of his lip in his teeth and nibbles, and when Mike leans in again, Chuck makes a soft little noise against his lips and doesn't push him away.

"Okay," Chuck says when Mike pulls back, and blows out a long breath. "Okay, you're crazy, but you're serious. Are we doing this?"

"Well, I dunno, dude," Mike says in exasperation, "you haven't even said if you're into me yet!"

Chuck huffs, blowing his bangs up for a second so Mike can see him rolling his eyes. "I thought that part was pretty obvious, Mikey."

"Uh, no?"

Chuck makes a grumbling noise and thumps his forehead onto Mike's shoulder. "And you think _I'm_ the oblivious one," he mutters. "Yes, I--I'm into you, okay?! Like, _painfully, stupidly_ into you, and I was being a jerk because having you joke about it when I knew you couldn't possibly… It kind of sucked," he finishes in a small voice.

Mike puts his hands on Chuck's back, breathing through the guilt and lingering unhappy frustration. "Okay, so we're gonna do this," he says, trying to sound firm and confident. "And we're gonna stop being oblivious dopes, and we're gonna kiss a lot, and it's gonna be great."

Chuck snorts, lifting his head. "I dunno, bro, that's kind of a tall order," he says, and Mike's stomach tightens up before he goes on, "we're apparently _pretty dumb_ if we could go two years without figuring this stuff out, so I don't know if we can do that second one." He swipes his bangs back for a second, eyeing Mike through his lashes. "...I bet we can manage the kissing, though," he says, shy and quiet, and Mike grins in delight and leans in to get started.


End file.
